


cat got your tongue

by fletcherstringham



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist - All Media Types
Genre: Aftercare, Blowjobs, Butt Plugs, Come Eating, Come Swallowing, Crying, Dildos, Dirty Talk, Dom/sub, Established Relationship, F/M, Lingerie, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Petplay, Praise Kink, Sex Toys, Trans Female Character, Trans Girl Fletcher Tringham, Vibrators, porn without plot/plot what plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-20
Updated: 2017-06-20
Packaged: 2018-11-16 08:41:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,613
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11249592
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fletcherstringham/pseuds/fletcherstringham
Summary: Alphonse Elric will claim to love all his pets equally, but behind closed doors, hedoeshave a favorite.





	cat got your tongue

**Author's Note:**

> took a break from my big bang to write some much-needed fletchal porn. enjoy the smutty goodness. ♥

The gentle creak of the door is all it takes to send goosebumps flying over Fletcher’s skin; really, Alphonse’s voice is just the icing on the cake.

“I’m ho-ome,” he calls, sugar-sweet, and Fletcher perks up just like she should, one hand planted on the carpet while the other curls under her chin. Al smiles to see her there, eyes crinkling at the corners; he walks over to her and she does her best to meet him halfway, though on her hands and knees, she isn’t that fast. He doesn’t complain, just kneels and reaches out a hand to scratch her head, careful not to knock off the cat ears clipped to her hair. “Mm, did you miss me, baby girl?” he croons.

Fletcher hums, low in her throat; it almost sounds like a proper purr now. She’s been practicing, and the excited gleam in Al’s eyes when he hears makes her efforts well worth it. He chuckles when she pushes her head against his hand, eager for more attention.

“Of course you did, sweetie. You missed me _so_ much, I can tell. I missed you, too, baby girl, don’t worry.” He nuzzles her temple, plants a kiss between her eyes, and then stands despite her whimper of protest to fiddle with the satchel draped over his shoulder. “I brought a present for you, kitten,” Al tells her. The playful coo in his voice gets her heart hammering.

The excitement must show on her face, because Al giggles again, his hand still hidden in his satchel. “Mm-hm. You’ve just been _such_ a good kitty lately, I thought you deserved a nice reward. You know I love spoiling you. Now, stay still for me, and don’t look, and I’ll get it set up for you, baby.”

Fletcher obeys, breaths coming quick and shallow in her eagerness, while she feels Al return to his knees behind her and trail his long fingers down the length of her bare back. Then, with that same light hand, he teases her hole; he gently circles the plug protruding from it and gives the attached tail a playful flick, laughing softly when Fletcher can’t hide a shudder. “Such a good kitty,” he murmurs, warm breath whispering over her skin. She hears a rustle that must be him taking her present from his bag, and she bites her lip.

Then, Al’s hand closes around her tail. He tugs, carefully so he doesn’t hurt her, and slowly, the plug slides out inch by inch until he’s pulled it free entirely, leaving her empty. Fletcher keens loudly in dismay—this is the _opposite_ of a reward! She’s been good; he said so!

Al’s quick to replace the toy with his fingers, wet with lube he must’ve applied while he was messing in his satchel. Having already stretched her a bit, he sinks in two with ease; that immediately fixes Fletcher’s disappointment, her voice dying in her throat as her mouth falls open. “See? No need to cry, baby girl,” Al says, thrusting gently, giving a soft laugh at the little whimper that falls unbidden from Fletcher’s lips. “Oh, no. You know I love you too much to leave you empty for long.”

She moans again, her muscles tight in her effort not to push her hips back against his hand—she knows she’s only allowed what he gives her, no more. He rewards her obedience by curling his fingers inside her; he presses up against _that_ spot, gives it a few strokes, and sudden burst of intense pleasure makes Fletcher wail.

“Aw, you like that, don’t you, sweet girl?” Al coos. “You’re so pretty when I’m making you purr. So pretty.”

He gives a few more pumps, spreads his fingers inside her, and then, while she’s still struggling to catch her breath, pulls away for just a moment. The coolness of fresh lube makes her shiver as he smears it around and in her hole.

“Such a pretty kitty, such a good girl,” he tells her, making her whine softly. Even more than his touches, his _praise_ gets her going like nothing else. Fletcher hears more movement behind her, though she doesn’t dare look. “Ready for your present, sweetie?” Al asks teasingly.

Fletcher can only moan; by now, she’s trembling all over. She’s more than clever enough to have long since worked out what her “present” is, but anticipation makes her gasp for breath anyway. Al hums in approval at the sight of her.

“Such a good girl, so patient. All right, no more waiting.” He kisses the small of her back, then withdraws to spread her cheeks with one hand while the other presses something cool and firm between them. “Enjoy,” he whispers, and pushes the new plug inside her.

It’s thicker than the other one—a _lot_ thicker. Even relaxed as she is, Fletcher can’t help a small gasp as she tries to adjust to its girth, shaking as she feels it stretch her further. Al notices; he stands and returns to her side so he can stroke her face, smiling as she gazes up at him with wide eyes and parted lips.

“Mm, you like it, don’t you, baby?” he says, and she answers with a strangled moan. Al laughs lightly. “I knew you would. I know my kitten well, don’t I? And that’s not even the best part.”

She only realizes his hand’s closed around something when he opens it, revealing a small, rectangular object in his palm, decorated with three different-shaped buttons: a remote. Oh. _Oh_.

Before she can even _try_ to prepare, Al, casual as can be, pushes one, and the vibrations begin.

Fletcher _screams_.

The sound’s still ringing through the bedroom when she cries out again, hands digging for purchase in the carpet. The vibrations aren’t gentle; they’re _wickedly_ intense, shocking her to her core with pleasure, and she finds herself rocking her hips without even meaning to in sudden, urgent need. Al quickly kneels in front of her, one hand cupping her cheek as she keeps keening, tears starting at the corners of her eyes.

“Easy, kitty. Easy, now,” he murmurs, and gives another button a few pushes. The intense vibrations dull to a low hum that still has her shaking—definitely—but gives her enough sense so she can still follow his orders. She looks up at him through damp eyes, still panting hard. “Good girl, good girl. That felt nice, didn’t it? If you’re a sweet kitty, you might get more of that later. Now, come on. Up on the bed. Up, up.”

He pats the mattress, and Fletcher, still shivering around the pulsing of the toy inside her, obeys. She curls up in the center of the bed, sweet as can be, and Al smiles as he sets the remote on the nightstand, kicks off his shoes, and starts undoing his buttons.

“You wouldn’t _believe_ the day I had, baby girl,” he says with a loud sigh, shaking his head in exasperation. “So long and hard, and I spent the whole time missing you so much. I’m so glad to be home.”

When he takes his shirt off, Fletcher expects to see a bare chest, or an undershirt at most. Instead, he exposes a black, lacy bra with tiny sequins glittering on the straps, the cups so sheer she can see his dark nipples poking up against them. Snug around his waist is a matching garter belt, with thin black garters to hold up the intricately detailed stockings he reveals when he steps out of his pants. There’s a bulge in his lacy panties where they strain against his hard cock, and when he turns around to put his wallet on the nightstand, Fletcher sees the back is nothing but a thin string, baring a round, firm behind to her hungry eyes.

Fletcher swallows thickly at the sight of him. Her own cock twitches against the coverlet.

“Make some room for me, sweetie,” Al says, near _maddeningly_ casual, and Fletcher budges over so he can sprawl out on the bed, holding out an arm for her to snuggle under. “There we go,” he murmurs in approval, bowing his head into her hair, while Fletcher tries her hardest not to tremble in his embrace. Between being pressed against his warm, toned body and the gentle vibrations inside her still, it’s no mean feat.

“I love my good girl so, so much,” Al croons, pressing kisses to the top of Fletcher’s head while he massages her back with his hand. The other plays with the satin bow attached to the collar around her neck. “Such a sweet kitty, such a good girl. All day long I look forward to coming home and cuddling with you.”

Ordinarily, Fletcher would agree—but she’s definitely got more than cuddling on her mind right now, and there’s no _way_ Al doesn’t know it. He’s _teasing_ her, which isn’t nice _and_ isn’t deserved. She’s been so, so good. She presses her nose into the hollow of his throat, nuzzling him while she makes a soft, needy sound.

“What is it, baby?” Al asks in a murmur, still petting her. Fletcher doesn’t speak—can’t—but she keeps up the small, whining noises, and butts him again with her nose. Al gives a low, throaty chuckle. “You just can’t get enough of me, can you, pretty girl? You missed me too much.”

The sudden glint in those gold eyes makes her shudder.

“In that case,” he says softly, “maybe you’d like to help me take the edge off.”

With a skilled hand, he unclips his garters and pushes the panties down those lovely hips, freeing an even lovelier cock—long and slightly curved, and lightly covered in crisp, amber hair that thickens at the base and travels up to his bellybutton in a thin line. His legs spread, and he pats the space on the bed between them. “Here, girl,” he tells her.

She doesn’t have to be told twice. Fletcher quickly crawls over his knee and settles between his thighs on all fours, while Al leans back with one arm behind his head and the other resting on his stomach. When he nods, Fletcher bows her head, licks her lips, and presses her tongue to the base of Al’s dick, slowly dragging it upward to end with a flick at the sensitive underside. The little hitch in Al’s breath sends a thrill of pride through her stomach.

“ _There_ you go, sweet kitty,” Al whispers as she really gets to work, lapping at him with her eyes closed to savor the musky, salty taste. She dips her tongue into the slit, nuzzles at his balls, and then takes the head into her mouth to suckle it, taking care to keep her teeth out of the way. With a groan, Al slides the hand on his stomach into Fletcher’s hair and clenches it. “Oh, good girl, what a good girl—you take my cock so well, you sweet, sweet girl—”

Encouraged, Fletcher takes him deeper, Al humming in approval as she sucks harder; he gently pushes at her head, and she moves lower at the hint until the leaking tip of his cock just barely brushes the back of her throat.

She peers at him through her eyelashes, asking mutely if he wants her to take him even further. Deepthroating is something they’ve played with before; this just isn’t the right position for it. Al gives her a smile that tells her she’s doing fine as is, and Fletcher focuses on that instead—sucking down to the fat middle part of his cock and running her tongue along the nerves under the tip, which makes him whine and roll his hips.

“My kitten’s _such_ a good cocksucker, such a perfect little pet,” Al pants, and even as consumed as she is with her task, Fletcher hears him fumbling for something on the nightstand. She shrieks in surprise when the vibrating of the plug inside her—now easy to think around—suddenly increases in intensity: not as much as it was earlier, but still enough that she nearly chokes on her mouthful as it makes her whimper.

Above her, Al gives a breathless laugh. “Good kitties get rewards, I told you that,” he tells her. “You’re _such_ a good kitty, that’s right; such a sweet, perfect angel—”

While she eagerly sucks, unable to get her fill of him, Al ramps up the vibrations of her toy little by little until she’s moaning nonstop around his dick, which has him growling in approval, his hips twitching under her. Fletcher’s own backside twists in pleasure; her thighs are quivering and her cock’s aching, desperate for a release that, despite the steady pulsing of the plug, doesn’t get any closer. And it won’t, she knows. If it were pressed up against her prostate, that’d be another story—but it isn’t, strategically designed to make her hot and desperate but not to satisfy her. _Al_ gets to decide when she comes, not any toy.

Al’s cock gets stiffer and stiffer between her lips, the head dripping precome on her tongue as she presses it to the soft palate of her mouth; the bitter flavor makes her shudder. His fingers massage her scalp, his crooning getting higher and faster—and more vulgar—as he gets close: “Mm, baby, I’m gonna come soon. Gonna come right in your mouth, fill that pretty mouth up with my come, that’s right—and you’ll swallow it all, won’t you, ‘cause you’re such a good girl. You’ll swallow every little bit I give you, kitten, ‘cause you’re my perfect little pet who _loves_ sucking my cock. Aren’t you?”

 _Yes_ , Fletcher thinks, bobbing her head up and down as she takes him, _yes, I am_ —and, tightening the hand in her hair almost to the point of pain, Al arches his back and gives a loud cry as he fills Fletcher’s waiting mouth, as promised, with jets of hot, sticky come.

She does her best to swallow it, really, eagerly drinking what he gives her, but it’s too much, too fast—before he’s done with his orgasm, she starts spitting it up, getting her cheeks and chin messy with it. Al’s dick twitches one more time, and then he gently pulls her off by her hair, eyes hooded as he sits up, remote in hand, and takes a good look at her face.

He clicks his tongue, smirking even as his chest heaves. “Silly girl. You made a mess,” he chides playfully. He scoots toward where she crouches and tips her chin up with two fingers, while the other touches her come-splattered cheek. “Let me help you,” he breathes.

With tender fingers, Al wipes the come from Fletcher’s face, then holds his dirty hand to her mouth for her to lick clean, which she does, eyes shut as she whimpers happily. “There you go, baby. Lap it up. That’s all yours. Mm, what a good girl you are.”

When she’s all done, Al returns his attention to the remote—yet, Fletcher can’t tense in eager anticipation before he horrifies her by turning the vibrations off altogether. She wails, swiveling her head to look at him with wide, hurt eyes. Al hurriedly mollifies her with cheek kisses. “No, no, baby girl, don’t cry. You just earned another treat, that’s all—and you’re gonna like this one even _better_.”

She blinks at him, caught between excitement and confusion, as Al slides off the bed and starts rummaging through his satchel again. He glances back at her when he finds what he wants, lips curved in a devilish grin. “No peeking,” he coos.

Fletcher turns back around, closing her eyes. She can’t stop a low moan of protest from escaping her as Al pulls out the second plug with a faint _pop_ , emptying her when she’s aching to be filled. His fingers return, but only to coat her hole with even more lube, and then he singsongs, “Ready?”

She can’t even decide for herself when he pushes the new toy in—not gently, but all at once. She barely has time to process the slick rubber and ridged body before it hits her prostate, and her startled gasp turns into a shout of delight.

Al pulls the dildo back a few centimeters, waits a moment, and shoves it in again. Fletcher responds with an even louder cry; the pleasure makes her head swim so much she barely hears his laugh.

“My little kitten’s a good, good girl,” he croons to her, while she mewls and pants and claws at the sheets, “but I know that sometimes, she just needs a nice, hard _fuck_.”

Oh, _hell_ yes.

Al kneels beside her on the bed for better leverage—the dildo must have some kind of handle—and starts thrusting the toy at a fast, rough pace, angling it carefully to hit her _right there_ every time he slams it in. Fletcher’s answering wails fall all on top of each other until her voice becomes one long keen; she drops onto her forearms, then just presses her face into the mattress to shriek and sob as she pushes her hips back to meet the toy every time it enters her.

Her cock starts leaking just as the tears come—ecstatic, overwhelmed tears at the sheer _intensity_ of what she’s feeling: the dildo moving roughly in and out of her, its ridges rubbing so wonderfully against her insides, the collar tight around her throat, Al’s warm hand clamped tight to her thigh and his voice humming happily as he watches her take her pleasure. Alphonse, _her_ Alphonse, the only person she trusts to use and bruise her body like this, because he’s nothing but gentle with her mind and heart.

Al’s fingers squeeze her trembling thigh as she gets close, so desperate for it she’s sobbing. “Aw, baby girl,” Al says, “that feels so good, doesn’t it? Mm, I know what my kitten likes. You wanna come, pretty kitty, don’t you?”

“Yes!” Fletcher cries out, forgetting not to talk—too needy, too desperate.

Al doesn’t reprimand her, just picks up his pace, and then growls out, “ _Come for me_ ” mere _seconds_ before she does, shuddering violently as she keens. All the tension rushes out of her, like a dam breaking, and ecstasy floods in in its place—stars behind her eyes, ears ringing, heart galloping as she spills onto the coverlet in messy spurts.

When she’s through, wrung out like a towel, her hips drop to the mattress so that she lies flat on her stomach, still in tears, and Al pulls her to him.

“It’s okay, Fletcher, it’s okay,” he tells her softly, arms circling her tight while she sobs. She feels his hand slide up to unclip the cat ears and fling them carelessly aside. “Everything’s okay, Fletch. You’re okay. I’m right here. Just let it out, okay?”

She nods, still blubbering, and presses her face into his chest; the sequined bra scratches, but she can’t find it in her to care. Al massages her back, nails lightly catching on the bumps of her spine. His lips cover her teary face in warm, soft kisses.

“Everything’s okay, Fletcher,” he murmurs again. “You’re okay. I’m here, and I love you _so_ much. You can come down now. It’s okay.”

Gradually, her chest still heaving, she does—not just from her orgasm, but the high emotional stakes of the game they just played. Just a game, she reminds herself. It’s over now, and Al’s here, and he loves her. Fletcher peeks out from his chest and gives him a watery smile. “I love you, too,” she mumbles.

“There’s my girl,” Al says fondly, tucking some hair behind her ear. “My amazing girl. Brilliant, beautiful Fletcher. Feeling a little better, love?”

Sniffling, Fletcher nods. Al sits up, slides off the bed, and holds his hands out to her. “I know what you need. A long, hot bath,” he says. “Does that sound nice?”

It really, really does. Her face is wet and puffy with tears, she’s still covered in her come and Al’s, and a thin layer of sweat clings to her skin. She takes Al’s hands so he can pull her to her feet, laughing as he tugs her into another hug and nuzzles the top of her head.

He fills the tub almost to the top, pours in bubble bath that smells like lemons, and slides in after her to cuddle her in his arms and massage her skin with a wet washcloth. Fletcher, feeling content, tips her head back against his shoulder. Al pauses in his scrubbing to just squeeze her tight, which earns a laugh before she cranes her neck to kiss him on the lips.

Then she hears it—the pattering of tiny feet, and a plaintive _meow_.

Fletcher opens her eyes to see a cat, one of Al’s, sitting on the toilet staring at them. Al must’ve left the bathroom door ajar.

“We’re busy,” Fletcher tells it. “Shoo.”

It leaps lightly onto the ledge of the bathtub and starts licking Al’s wet shoulder, making him giggle. Fletcher scowls at it. Outside of roleplay, she actually doesn’t like cats very much—and this is part of why.

“Okay, okay,” Al laughs. He scoops the cat up and deposits it gently on the floor. “Off you go.” He laughs again when he looks back at Fletcher and gets a look at her pinched face. “Oh, don’t look so sour,” he teases, tapping her nose with a soapy finger. Then, with a mischievous grin, he adds, “You’re still my favorite.”

Fletcher gives him a face full of bathwater.

**Author's Note:**

> [fletcher not liking cats is actually canon!](http://68.media.tumblr.com/bc8a7af91758c2502c27d039005180fc/tumblr_mvtropDtBC1rvunifo1_500.jpg) it's a fun tidbit that made this fic even more fun to write. your feedback is my lifeblood!


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